


Operation Friendly Ghost

by wargh



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Kaito is a big dork with an even bigger crush, M/M, My OTP, RIDICULOUS ROMCOM, there's gonna be a lot of flailing about in this one, this is so self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-10-30 20:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wargh/pseuds/wargh
Summary: FYI, people get kind ofweirdwhen you remind them that they once tased a six-year-old.Or: Shinichi is really bad at this "friendly joking around" thing, and Kaito's life is suffering.





	1. In which Kudou Shinichi flirts without even realizing and it’s all good until he accidentally breaks Kaito, aka from ‘Call Me Maybe’ to ‘call me?? maybe???’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHAHAHA

“We are coming to you live from…the scene of Kaitou KID’s heist, where tonight’s target…”

The chop-chop-chop of the helicopter’s blades drowned out most of the reporter’s enthusiastic narration, but he wasn’t listening, anyway. The familiar thrill of a KID heist thrummed in his ears and warmed his blood with anticipation. His mouth curved in a wolfish grin, his teeth a white blade in the dark.

Five seconds left.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

_Showtime._

One way or another, KID was going down.

* * *

 

…That was what he’d thought, but of course it was never that easy with KID.

Shinichi rounded the last flight of stairs and slammed the door open, gathering his breath to yell, but drew back at the sight of a rooftop conspicuously bare of annoying thieves in stupid capes.

He frowned thoughtfully and stepped sideways, careful to keep his back to the wall.

The sound of the door falling shut almost drowned out the subtle sound of shifting cloth, but the low chuckle by his ear was unmistakable. The warmth of KID’s breath made Shinichi shudder even as he brought his watch reflexively upwards and fired right at that smug Cheshire grin.

The dart pinged harmlessly off the concrete as KID pulled his head back behind the corner, and before Shinichi could adjust his aim to try again KID was already backing him against the wall, caging him in with his left elbow braced against the wall by Shinichi’s face and his right hand in a gentle, inexorable grasp around Shinichi’s wrist.

“Hello there,” KID crooned, sliding his hand down to raise Shinichi’s own to his lips and ghosting a kiss across his knuckles.

Shinichi blinked, bewildered, unable to help either the mysterious thrill that ran through him nor the tinge of darkening pink he could feel curling around his cheekbones.

“I don’t know if it’s the moonlight or the glitter, but you do look particularly lovely tonight.”

Shinichi bristled, snapping out of the odd spell KID had woven over him. Glitter.

Shinichi's quick reflexes had kept most of the surprise glitter bomb out of his face, but he’d mixed it into some sort of gel, and a smear on his cheek caught and held a stray moonbeam.

Well, far be it from the Magician Under the Moonlight to miss such a lovely lure.

KID smiled, a soft, surprisingly artless curve that froze Shinichi in place for the bare moment it took for KID to cup his cheek in one hand and thumb away the smudge, then laugh and duck away from Shinichi’s embarrassed swipe to flip himself onto the railing.

“I’m going to see you in handcuffs or in hell,” Shinichi snarled, pushing his sweat-soaked bangs out of his starlight eyes, and glared at him with a particularly adorable kind of embarrassed hostility. Kaito held back a besotted sigh at the way his pale skin shimmered in the moonlight. The glitter was just as nice a touch as he’d thought! There was no doubt at all that Kaito had the cutest tantei-kun in the entire world.

He grabbed at his chest melodramatically, wailing: “Meitantei-kun! Why do you treat me so? Are dashing gentlemen in white just not to your liking?”

Shinichi paused, cocking a brow ironically as he levied KID with a look of pure skepticism. Then a thought occurred to him, and his lips quirked into a sardonic grin as he sauntered over to lean against the railing himself, the distance he left between them a message of his disinterest in any last-ditch lunging ploys.

KID’s monocle flashed in the moonlight as his gaze followed Shinichi’s movements. The brim of his hat cast his face in shadow, but there was a hint of intrigue in the tilt of his head. Shinichi cast a sidelong glance at him, a private smirk playing at his mouth, as he beckoned KID closer.

He’d half-expected KID to fly off, so Shinichi felt a warm rush of something almost like affection when KID leaned in without hesitation. It was a rare privilege indeed to be trusted by Kaitou KID.

Smile widening with pleasure, Shinichi lowered his voice and murmured, like he was revealing a secret: “They are, actually.”

KID made an odd movement, almost like he was swaying towards Shinichi, and Shinichi caught his eyes among the shadows on his face. He held his gaze as he let the grin itching at his cheeks take over, continuing cheerfully, “Too bad I don’t see any here.”

Shinichi experienced a visceral flash of gleeful spite as KID _stumbled_ , arms windmilling frantically for a split second to keep himself from plummeting onto the rooftop. He recovered quickly, true to form, and fixed Shinichi with an injured pout so convincing it almost fooled Shinichi for a moment.

“Taaaaantei-kuuuun, what’s that supposed to mean? Emphasis on the _mean_!”

Shinichi affected total composure as best he could with a mouth that kept twitching up at the corners. “Exactly what I said. You, KID, are no gentleman.”

“How can you _say_ that, Tantei-kun?” KID wailed, drawing his cape dramatically over his face. “After all we’ve been through together! What about the time I caught you when you tossed yourself off a building?”

“You tricked me into letting you go on the Queens Elizabeth by implying that you’d left Ran lying around _naked and unconscious_.” Shinichi countered. “ _You threw a bra at a six-year-old_.”

KID’s face emerged over the edge of his cape. “Or when I helped you fight bioterrorists on that airship?” he tried, looking uncomfortable at the reminder.

“You _groped Ran_ on that airship.”

“Alright, alright, so those were perhaps not my best moments, but what about the Memories Egg Scorpion debacle? I did my best!” KID insisted, looking gratifyingly off-kilter.

“You _tased a grade-schooler._ Also, your face when you smirk is the most annoying thing I’ve ever seen.”

“My fa—oh my god, the Kirin’s Horn.”

“The Kirin’s Horn.” Shinichi confirmed, feeling mischievous and lighthearted, childlike in a way he hadn’t felt in years. This was _fun_. Was this how KID felt all the time? “I could’ve _died_. And after I took care of your dove, too.”

“I...turned down the voltage...” KID offered weakly, then pressed his lips tightly together, looking pained, as Shinichi raised his eyebrows at him.

Shinichi had officially struck Kaitou KID speechless. This might actually be the greatest accomplishment of his life so far, and he’d taken down a criminal organization spanning the whole globe while stuck in the body of a first-grader.

KID opened his mouth to argue, then shut it uselessly. He stood frozen in the moonlight, face blank and shoulders slumped.

Shinichi frowned. This was getting _weird_. “Hey, are you...?”

“I’m going to go home and think about this.” KID announced suddenly, then turned on his heel and disappeared in a haphazard puff of smoke, nothing like the grand production of his usual exits.

“Wait, hey—shit,” Shinichi groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. KID was already long gone.

He’d honestly just been enjoying their banter, needling KID on all the outrageous tricks he’d pulled during their many encounters, but KID seemed to have taken his teasing seriously. Maybe he’d gone too far?

Shinichi didn’t have a lot of friends, but he tried to hold onto the ones he did have. He’d apologize the next time they met. It’d be fine!

So why did he have such a bad feeling about the whole thing?

* * *

That was five weeks ago. It had been five weeks since KID’s last heist, and the total radio silence on KID’s part was beginning to gnaw at Shinichi. Even the heist target’s return had been done without the customary dramatic flair, left unceremoniously outside the window of Nakamori’s office in a cardboard box padded haphazardly with tissues, a bunch of stuffed KID dolls of the 100-yen crane game variety thrown in like an afterthought.

How was he supposed to apologize to KID if he wasn’t _around_? It wasn’t as though he had _International Criminal 1412_ ’s phone number saved. They barely knew each other, really.

This whole miscommunication thing would never have happened if they had known each other just a little better, just enough to know when one of them was joking or should back off because he’d accidentally set off some kind of emotional landmine.

(Maybe Ran was right about the effect of spending most of his time around dead bodies on his social skills.)

So, new plan: instead of waiting for KID to come to him, Shinichi would hunt him down outside of heists to apologize and ask if they could maybe be friends. He is a detective on a mission! He might not know what Kaitou KID looks like or where he lives, his likes and dislikes or who his friends are, but he knows the way KID _thinks_. He can do this. This is what he’s good at! This is his _job_. He can’t fail.

Kudo Shinichi is going to catch himself a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am _so hyped_ about my first fic with these two idiot geniuses, because their dumb asses are my _favorite_ and I've loved them since I was a wee tyke, young enough to be jealous of the Detective Boys myself. I used to eye them up whenever they appeared onscreen and decide which one I'd replace (it was always Genta. fuck Genta, man)


	2. In which Nakamori Aoko takes action (and almost gives two people a concussion)

Kaito’s body may have been sitting in class, but his mind was miles away. 

Out of the corner of her eye Aoko watched him scribble madly on a stray scrap of paper, then freeze, screw the page up into a ball, and set it on fire with a distracted snap of his fingers. It flared up quick and clean, a small pile of white ashes joining the rapidly growing heap on Kaito’s desk as he let out a pitiful, frustrated groan and twisted his hands into his hair. 

He’d been like this for _over a month_ now, and he refused to tell Aoko what was wrong! The whole class was getting increasingly anxious at Kaito’s uncharacteristic preoccupation. Hakuba-kun was driving himself half-crazy trying to figure it out, teachers jumped at every sudden movement Kaito made, and at least six students so far had flat-out stopped going to school with Kaito in such a volatile state.  

The only one unruffled by Kaito’s sudden crisis was Akako-chan, who, between her constant expression of predatory amusement and her penchant for needling Kaito with weird cryptic comments about _perspective_ and _history_ and there being _more than one truth_ (and also, for some reason, child abuse??) until Kaito started looking sort of wild-eyed and frayed around the edges, was unnerving people herself. 

Sometimes Aoko felt like she didn’t even know Kaito anymore. He’d be completely fine one day, excited about the KID heist even, and a depressive wreck the next five weeks. It wasn’t even like KID had been captured (that slippery, obnoxious little weasel!), so what could possibly have happened that night? She’d tried to give him space at first after he’d made it clear that he didn’t want to talk about it, but seeing her spirited, excitable friend look so miserable was just…upsetting. 

No matter how incomprehensible and frustrating he could be, he was still Aoko’s best friend. Aoko steeled herself. He was _so_ lucky to have her! The end-of-class bell rang as if on cue, and she leaped to her feet before Kaito could pull his disappearing act yet again. 

“ _Bakaito_ _!_ ” she barked, slamming her hands down onto his desk and sending a cloud of ashes up Kaito’s nose. Kaito’s whole body jerked, three doves exploding out of his sleeves in a flurry of startled squawks that were indistinguishable from his own. 

 _Kaito_ , losing control of his _magic_? It was even worse than she’d thought. 

“A—Ahoko!” Kaito sputtered, wiping ash out of his eyes. “What’s _wrong_ with you?” 

“That’s my line, Bakaito! You’ve been weird and gloomy for ages, and Aoko is sick of it! We’re going to get ice cream, and you’re going to tell Aoko what your problem is, or Aoko is going to tell _everyone_ about the time she found you in your room upside down—” 

“ _Okay, okay_ , you win, _shut up Aoko my amazing best friend_ , that was one time—” 

* * *

Shinichi isn’t cursed. He _isn’t_. 

Day Five of Operation Friendly Ghost (for lack of a better name), and despite his search being restricted to whatever few afterschool hours he had that weren’t already dedicated to helping the police out with their cases, Shinichi was currently looking down at his third corpse of the week.  

His map of every KID heist since his return had showed an interesting pattern: the radius started out fairly small, concentrated mostly within the greater Tokyo area, then widened as the new KID gained confidence in his abilities. That part of the timeline was exactly as expected. 

But around two years ago, the map started looking very odd. The radius narrowed again, then expanded wildly in scope, then began to creep inwards again, spiraling tighter and tighter around the Beika-Ekoda area—until about five months ago. 

Whatever had changed to free KID from his leash, it seemed likely that it was related to this area. But what? Did he live here? A family emergency? A lost item? A missed connection? He had no way to know where to even start. 

Shinichi had set out to the Ekoda library to comb through past newspapers for any possible leads, and only stopped in the café for a quick caffeine boost before he dived into hours of pouring over microfiche prints. And then someone had died. 

He hadn’t even been able to place an order first. He sighed, pulling on a pair of latex gloves with a testy snap and crouching to inspect the victim. _I can’t take me anywhere._  

Then his mind zeroed in on the problem at hand, and the outside world fell away, all his surroundings rearranging into neat patterns and classifications of clue, source, suspect, unrelated. 

* * *

Aoko took a vicious bite of her vanilla cone and glared savagely at Kaito, who was sinking in his seat under the combined force of her evil eye and the ominous crunching of her gnashing teeth. 

Kaito broke, slamming his forehead onto the table. “He _hates_ me,” he whined, turning his head the bare minimum necessary to give her a pair of truly pathetic puppy eyes and shovel more chocolate fudge sundae into his mouth. 

Aoko racked her brains for someone with reason to be mad at Kaito, but stopped herself after the first fifteen names that suggested themselves to her in rapid succession, because that clearly wasn’t helpful. She tried thinking of people whose opinions Kaito actually cared about instead. 

It was a significantly shorter list. 

“…Hakuba-kun?” she tried dubiously. 

“What? Why would I care what Hakuba thinks? Hakuba is the worst.” Kaito paused, then amended with enough self-pity to choke a horse, “Except for me. _I’m_ the actual worst.” 

Aoko watched her best friend sadly shove another heaping spoonful of ice cream and feelings into his mouth and sighed, licking the melting edges off the cone that was starting to look as droopy as Kaito himself. “How about you just start from the beginning?” 

“So I have this…friend.” Kaito starts. “No wait, we aren’t really friends, we just run into each other a lot, but I _want_ to be, uh, friends—” 

“And he doesn’t want to be, 'uh, friends,' with you?” 

“Probably not? He tries to get me arrested a lot. And I don’t think he’d come visit me in prison.” Kaito said woefully, looking a lot more upset about the last part than the thought that the guy he wanted to be "uh, friends" with supposedly wanted to put him in jail. 

Aoko thought about interrogating any of that, but even the thought of “interrogation” and “Kaito” together made her head throb in preemptive protest. 

“…Okay, so he hates you?” 

“Yes? No? Probably not?” A deck appeared in a cloud of white smoke to riffle through the air between Kaito’s palms. 

So this guy doesn’t hate Kaito, but wants him imprisoned, what, on principle? For public safety? Peace and quiet? The greater good?? Aoko has lost all control of this conversation. 

“Then why are you so upset?” 

The deck jumped spasmodically between his fingers, stray cards flipping over and under and rejoining the lot in the oddest shuffle Aoko had ever seen. 

“Because I did horrible things to him and sexually harassed his girlf—his friend," Aoko watched the random assortment of flowers flicker in and out of sight, trying to figure out how Kaito was manipulating them when both hands were occupied with arcing two decks through each other in twin loop-de-loops to switch places in his hands. 

"—And he remembers every single one of them and he's probably at least a little mad—not that he shouldn't be, because I'm a jerk and a monster," A tearful and unsettlingly bloodstained clown mask flashed across Kaito's face, making Aoko rear back in disgust, even while Kaito's hands shuffled and the flowers multiplied and turned into a bunch of depressed balloon onlookers mourning a mostly deflated balloon corpse. She was _definitely_  disturbed now. 

"—and just the _worst_  and of course he can be mad at me, any normal person would be, even though he's not really what you'd call _normal_ —" 

Aoko had just managed to wrap her mind around the idea that anyone could possibly unbalance Kaito this much and was digesting the revelation that Kaito had apparently sexually harassed this guy's girlfriend because he wanted his attention (and moreover, felt _guilty_  about it, even though he remained utterly unrepentant about every time he flipped _Aoko's_  skirt), when Kaito let out a distressed _hrk_  sound and his spoon fell out of his mouth, splashing melted ice cream everywhere as his cards scattered and turned into doves whose alarmed fluttering left stray chocolate-smeared feathers all over the table. 

“Ugh, Bakaito! What’s wrong with you _now_?” Aoko complained, wiping up the mess, but when she raised her head to yell at her idiot best friend some more, the words left her completely. 

Kaito was staring over her shoulder, mouth slack with shock and his eyes fixed unblinking on whatever scene was happening across the street. Aoko twisted in her seat to watch two officers escorting a handcuffed suspect to a patrol car pause to speak to a slender boy with a distinctive cowlick. The hairstyle twigged something in her mind, but it was the Teitan uniform he was wearing that provided the decisive clue. 

“That’s…Kudo Shinichi, isn’t it? The high school detective? This is my first time seeing him in person! Wow, I thought Dad was exaggerating, but he really does look just like you.” She turned to Kaito to share her discovery, but Kaito was very obviously not listening. Instead his eyes were tracking Kudo’s movements as he bowed to the officers and drifted away from the car, shucking his gloves with a pensive frown as he cast one last glance over the crime scene. Aoko divided her attention between watching Kudo get ambushed by an overzealous reporter angling for a statement and watching Kaito smile helplessly as he watched Kudo’s fumbling attempts to politely excuse himself. 

“Do you want to go talk to him?” she finally asked. 

“What? No!” Kaito yelped, eyes nearly bugging out of his head. Aoko stared at him. 

“But you always want to talk to famous people! What’s gotten into you?” 

Kaito slunk down in his seat. “Nothing. None of your business.” 

“Don’t give me that, Bakaito! Your problems _always_ become Aoko’s problems, so either you tell Aoko what’s wrong with you right now, or Aoko is going to go over there and tell Kudo Shinichi that her best friend is too chicken to—wait. _Wait._ _No way_.” 

Kaito opened his mouth to deny everything, then wilted at the Look Aoko sent him and plunked his head onto the table in defeat. 

“ _Kudo Shinichi_ is mad at you? But Aoko heard he doesn’t even get mad at _serial killers_!” 

“Not… _mad_ , exactly, he just thinks I’m weird and gross and a terrible menace who should be locked up forever.” Kaito lamented, looking demoralized by his own words. 

“Well, at least you’re self-aware.” Aoko sniffed, and lugged Kaito out of the café. Weird and gross and a menace, sure, but he was also brilliant and sunny and thoughtful and kind and Aoko’s best friend in the whole world, and if Kudo Shinichi was anything like everyone said he was he could probably clear this mess up and bring Kaito back to his regular brand of cheery abnormality in no time. 

* * *

“Ow, Aoko—let me go—“ 

Kaito struggled halfheartedly against Aoko’s hold, his own feet betraying him to carry him closer and closer to the visual masterpiece that was Kudo Shinichi in deep thought. His hair was windswept, his eyes as dark and deep as frozen lakes. 

Kaito itched to throw himself at his Tantei-kun’s feet and beg for mercy, to touch him and break the spell of stillness upon him, to bring him to life with tricks and jokes and make him laugh and pout and tease back. 

“Excuse me, Kudo-san?” Aoko had already reached Shinichi. His winter-lake eyes lightened, posture loosening as his right hand fell from his “thinking” pose and he lifted his gaze to regard her quizzically. 

“Ah, can I help you?” 

Kaito was so caught up in his slack-jawed staring that he didn’t notice what Aoko was up to until it was too late. Aoko’s grip latched onto his collar. 

“This idiot wants to be friends with you!” 

“ _Aoko!_ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haHA sorry i'm so late, hope people still remember this exists!
> 
> i love puns ok it is truly shameful how many times i typed and erased “enough self-pity to choke a white horse”
> 
> Aoko is gr8 and i won't hear otherwise


	3. In which Kuroba Kaito accidentally punches his crush in the face and subsequently learns there is life after complete and utter humiliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU GUYS THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE

The case was wrapped up, but Shinichi’s mind was occupied with a problem even more complicated than puzzling out how the victim’s niece’s husband’s mistress’s father had murdered him from a hundred meters away with a rubber band ball, a lighter, several iron bearings, and an anime body pillow. 

The problem was this: Kudo Shinichi had no idea how to make friends. All of the friends he’d ever had could be divided into three categories: people he’d met through his hobbies, like his middle school soccer team; people he’d met through murder, like Haibara and Hattori; and people he’d met more or less by total coincidence who for whatever reason had adopted him and refused to be driven away by his personality flaws or morbid interests, like Ran, Sonoko, Agasa, and all the Detective Boys. 

The point being, Shinichi had no idea how to take the lead in actively pursuing a friendship with someone. How was he supposed to convince KID to be friends with him when he had no idea how to even extend a casual offer to hang out? He’d gotten far too used to relying on Ran or Hattori or the Detective Boys to come up with plans to drag him around everywhere.  

Oh god, Sonoko was right, Shinichi _was_ a total loser who was definitely going to die alone. 

No. Stop. Approach the problem rationally. If you aren’t good at something, you practice until you are. Logically, what he needed was a controlled environment in which to practice his social skills safely, without the risk of being horribly humiliated—or worse, _ignored_ —at every heist for the rest of forever. A control group. Someone he could try acting naturally around, to see if anything about him needed to be adjusted. 

In other words, what he needed was a practice friend. But how was he going to find one of those? It wasn’t like friends just fell out of the sky. Only dead bodies did that. 

“Excuse me, Kudo-san?” Shinichi blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts as he registered the sight of a messy-haired girl—navy seifuku, red ribbon, Ekoda High, was eating ice cream from the shop across the street until just a minute ago—who bore a remarkable resemblance to Ran. 

“Ah, can I help you?” 

“This idiot wants to be friends with you!” she announced, catching the boy hovering uncertainly behind her by the collar and hurling him at Shinichi with absolutely no warning whatsoever. 

“ _Aoko!_ ” Her companion howled as they collided. Caught off-guard, Shinichi went down. 

The part of his mind not preoccupied with trying to curl himself up enough not to bounce his head off the sidewalk noted her impressive arm. What was this Ran’s sport _, discus-throwing_? 

“Why,” Shinichi groaned, a little dazed but thankfully not concussed. mostly due to someone's hands cupping the back of his head. 

Not-Ran’s friend was sprawled above him, face buried in Shinichi’s sternum and arms outstretched where he’d made a grab for Shinichi’s skull like he was diving for a fly ball at Koshien. 

“I think I broke my nose on your ribs,” the boy mumbled plaintively. “D’you _ever_ eat?” 

“Is this how people make friends in Ekoda?” Shinichi snapped back, feeling oddly defensive. He ate when he remembered to! He was a busy person! 

“Aoko is so sorry!” Not-Ran—Aoko, apparently—was stuttering, hands fluttering in horrified embarrassment. “Aoko didn’t—Aoko wasn’t trying to—oh my god, Kaito, get _off_ him!” 

‘Kaito’ suddenly appeared to register their position, and scrambled up so fast he almost yanked Shinichi’s arm out of its socket as he hauled him up. 

“Thanks,” Shinichi said doubtfully, subtly testing his shoulder with a full-body stretch. He wasn’t experiencing any headache or dizziness, but he must’ve hit his head after all, because he thought he heard an alarmingly high keening sound coming from Kaito’s direction as soon as he lifted his arms. But when he glanced over, Kaito was busy fiddling with his sleeves, face hidden under a baseball cap Shinichi could’ve sworn he hadn’t been wearing before.  

Shinichi must be more tired than he’d thought, if he was making elementary observational slips like overlooking a hat. He should go home and get some… 

… _W_ _ait_. 

“Really super sorry, Aoko hopes you aren’t hurt, please don’t tell Aoko’s dad—actually that’s more for your sake, since he’d probably laugh at you a lot—”  

Aoko was still going. Shinichi considered waiting her out so as not to be rude, but she didn’t seem to be winding down at all, so he coughed a little self-consciously and ventured, “Did you say your friend, um, wants to be friends with me?” 

Kaito snapped his head up to shoot Shinichi a stricken look, eyes huge over his pink cheeks and wow, did he look a _lot_ like Shinichi. It was a striking resemblance, and almost sort of creepy, because Shinichi wasn’t really in the habit of thinking his own face looked kind of cute blushing like that. 

“Oh, yes, that!” Aoko jabbed Kaito in the side to jump-start him. 

“HerethisisforyouI’mreallysorry!” Kaito yelled, lunging forward and arm shooting out in an uncontrolled jerk, and Shinichi’s face exploded in a haze of pain and confusion and also flower petals, for some reason. He reeled back, wincing at the unmistakable heat of blood welling up inside his nose. This day _really_ wasn’t going well. 

 _“Kaito_ _you_ _unbelievable fuckup,”_ Shinichi dimly registered Aoko shrieking in the background, but he was a bit too preoccupied with pinching his nose and tilting his head forward at the recommended forty-five degree angle to pay much attention. 

“I’m so sorry so sorry _why am I like this_ ,” Kaito was moaning, tugging frantically at some sort of cloth that seemed to be caught in his sleeve. Whatever was holding it in place finally gave way, only to spill out a seemingly infinite length of scarf cycling through every color imaginable. 

Kaito was _so weird_. Watching him scrabble for the end of the scarf, cursing under his breath and clearly panicking, Shinichi found himself laughing for the first time in a long while. Kaito stared at him, astonished, before leaping forward to press the entire wad of silk against Shinichi’s face to try to stem the flow of blood. 

“Stop laughing, you’re making it worse—I mean, you should laugh, you should laugh all the time because _wow_ , you look—you look really good, it’s just that it’s not very good for you _right now_ , and laughing while you’re covered in blood might give people the wrong idea—” 

Kaito’s anxious babbling just made him laugh even harder, the laughter pouring out of Shinichi and leaving him gasping at the end of it, feeling light and steady and right in his skin, the occasional residual giggle bubbling up at the sight of Kaito’s attempts to hold the scarf securely to Shinichi’s face even as his shoulders heaved and his nose twitched with the force of his laughing. 

Shinichi focused on Kaito’s face to get himself back under control, cataloguing the similarities between their facial structures and seeking out the differences. They were there, now that he was looking: Kaito’s jaw was a little lower and squarer than his own; his cheeks were just a bit fuller; his eyes perhaps the barest tinge more purple than blue, darkened with concern as he thumbed a stray drop of blood off Shinichi’s cheek.  

“I really am sorry.” Kaito murmured. His hands were warm and strong, gentle despite his calluses and the surface abrasions he'd sustained saving Shinichi's brain from concussion. It was...nice. “How can I make it up to you?” 

Nobody had taken care of him like this since he’d gotten his body back. It was surprising to realize that he’d sort of missed it. 

The realization emboldened him. “I’ll forgive you if you buy me a coffee.” He said before he could second-guess himself, and he couldn’t help but smile when Kaito burst out, “Yes. Yes! Are you free now? I’ll take you to Fantômas. Best coffee in all of Ekoda, or so I hear. I'm Kuroba, by the way! Kuroba Kaito.” 

His eyes were bright with happiness, and his wide grin was bashful and ridiculously endearing.  

“Kudo Shinichi. Lead the way, Kuroba-san.” Shinichi said. 

He had a good feeling about Kuroba Kaito. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA: This was a Miraculous Ladybug AU all along (jk, that’s a different story entirely)
> 
> (Aoko ran away out of sheer secondhand embarrassment)


End file.
